You Have No Proof We Dated

I spent seven years as the dirty little secret of my sisters best friend.

She was drunkor playing at itwhen she looked at me across the dimly lit VIP booth, a cruel, lazy smile on her lips. Cole, I should just set you up with someone better. That way you can finally stop suffocating me, yeah?

My expression didn't shift. I just looked at her and calmly said, "Okay."

Because I remembered another lifetime. A life where I didn't agree. A life where I stubbornly married her anyway.

In that life, she treated our marriage like a prison sentence. She froze me out, entirely indifferent to my existence. And when a semi-truck ran a red light and T-boned my car, leaving me bleeding out on the asphalt, she was miles away, watching the Northern Lights with her ex-boyfriend.

That was when I finally learned that human hearts are fickle, fleeting things. You cannot beg someone to love you.

I said "okay," and Stella froze.

She hadn't expected me to agree so easily.

The amber lighting in the private room flickered, casting shadows over her bare, un-made-up face. There was a flush to her cheeks, but her eyes were razor-sharp, completely devoid of the drunkenness she had been feigning just seconds before.

I sat perfectly straight, a faint, meaningless smile lingering on my lips as I looked back at her.

Stella dropped the lazy, teasing act. Her voice hardened, taking on a defensive edge. "Cole, did you hear a single word I just said?"

I nodded once. "Loud and clear."

In the past, if she had said something like that, I would have panicked. I would have feigned anger, cut her off, and begged her not to joke about giving me away.

But now, I felt like a ghost inhabiting my own body. I felt absolutely nothing. It was like listening to the weather report for a city I didn't live in.

"Cole, you..."

Before she could finish her sentence, my older sister, Tessa, pushed the heavy door open, letting in a blast of cold air from the main bar. She had a wicked, entertained grin on her face. "Guess who I just saw out there?"

Without waiting for a response, Tessa forged ahead. "Your ex, Christian. He looks totally trashed. A couple of cougars were basically dragging him toward the back rooms..."

Stella shot up from the leather sofa like shed been burned. She shoved past the table, practically sprinting out into the corridor.

A minute later, the unmistakable sound of a scuffleshouting, a glass shattering violently against the hardwoodechoed down the hall.

I stayed right where I was, casually peeling a mandarin orange from the fruit platter.

Stella loved fresh fruit, but she hated the sticky feeling of peeling it. For seven years, I had painstakingly peeled everything for her, placing the segments on a napkin just so she would take a bite.

Tessa used to watch me do it and laugh. "You treat her better than you treat your own flesh and blood. Don't tell me you're in love with her, little brother."

I had almost confessed so many times. But Stella would always interlock her arm with mine, flashing a sweet, warning smile at my sister. "Maybe Cole just thinks I'm a better sister than you are. Is it a crime for him to spoil me?"

Eventually, I learned the script. She didn't want anyone to know about us. So, I swallowed the truth.

For seven years, not a single soul knew we were together.

Tessa stood in the doorway now, craning her neck to see if she needed to break up the fight. She glanced back at me, still eating my fruit, and raised an eyebrow. "Your girl Stella is throwing hands out there. You're really not going to play knight in shining armor?"

I swallowed the last slice of citrus and shook my head. "It's a catfight over a guy. Why would I get in the middle of that?"

Tessa looked surprised, but she didn't press it. She jogged out to help.

I sat alone in the quiet hum of the booth. I waited until the shouting died down completely before I finally stood up and walked out into the corridor.

The first thing I saw was Stella. Both of her hands were tightly wrapped around a mans arm.

It was Christian. The ghost of her past. The one she could never quite let go of.

He was heavily intoxicated, his body slumped against hers like he had no bones. And Stella didn't push him away. Instead, she held him up, pulling him flush against her side. Her dark eyes were blazing with anger at whoever had touched him, but beneath the rage was a tender, aching worry she didn't even realize she was showing.

Tessa saw me and nudged my shoulder. "Cole, what do you think? Any chance those two are going to rekindle the flame?"

She didn't speak softly. Stella heard every word.

Her head snapped up, her eyes locking onto mine where I stood a few feet away. For a fraction of a second, a flicker of guilt flashed across her face.

"I have no intention of getting back together with him," she said, her voice defensively loud. "He's just drunk. I'm helping him out."

I gave her a soft, accommodating smile. "I get it, Stella. Christian looks like he can barely stand. You should get him home safely."

Stella frowned, a subtle tightening of her jaw, as if my casual, distant tone bothered her. But she didn't reject the out I gave her.

As she turned to leave, supporting his weight, she called back to my sister. "You two head home soon, okay? Don't stay out too late."

Watching their retreating backs, a familiar, needle-like pain pricked at my chest.

It was just so profoundly, bitterly ironic.

In my previous life, I had gotten exactly what I wanted. I married Stella. But I never got the happiness I bargained for.

On my birthday, I had just wanted a quiet dinner at home.

She had scoffed, slipping on her coat. "I'm slammed with work. Can you stop nagging me for one night?"

An hour later, I saw Christian's Instagram story: a picture of the two of them hitting the slopes in Aspen.

When an acute stomach ulcer left me doubled over in agony, I begged her to drive me to the ER.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm not a doctor, Cole. If you're dying, call a cab. What do you expect me to do about it?"

The next day, I saw her in the same hospital lobby, keeping Christian company for a mild sinus infection.

The bitter end came on our anniversary. I had prepared a surprise, rushing home, only to be struck by a speeding car.

When the ER trauma surgeon called her emergency contact number, begging for consent to operate, her voice over the speakerphone was ice-cold.

"Is he dead yet? If he's not dead, don't bother me."

And then, right before the line went dead, I heard Christian's exhilarated voice in the background: "Stella, look! The aurora is incredible. This trip was so worth it."

As the dial tone hummed, the blood from my crushed ribs soaked through the stark white hospital sheets.

Remembering the agonizing, suffocating phantom pain of a dying heart, I gasped for air, clutching my chest in the present. I let out a pale, hollow laugh.

Stella, since you feel my love is such a burden, I simply won't love you anymore.

Tessa and I didn't stay out long. We went home early that night.

When I woke up the next morning, groggy and disoriented, my phone screen lit up.

It was a message from Christian.

He had sent a picture of Stella, fast asleep, tangled in the sheets of his bed.

The caption read: Stella stayed over to take care of me last night.

I stared at the screen. I felt nothing. No jealousy, no rage. Just a profound emptiness. I typed a single letter: K.

He wasn't satisfied. A few minutes later, another photo buzzed through.

Breakfast. Two plates. A perfectly cooked heart-shaped fried egg.

Stella made me breakfast, he wrote. Even cut the egg into a little heart.

During our seven years together, Stella had never once stepped foot in my kitchen. She used to tell me she was raised like a princess, and she wasn't about to start scrubbing pots just because she had a boyfriend.

So, to make sure she ate well, I had enrolled in an expensive, intensive culinary arts program. I made sure that whenever I was around, she always had a hot, gourmet meal waiting for her.

Seeing what she was willing to do for Christian made me realize what a spectacular fool I had been.

I put the phone down, didn't bother replying, and went back to eating my own cold toast.

Five minutes later, Stella texted.

She didn't mention where she was. She just demanded, casually: "Those homemade tortellini you made last week were amazing. Make another batch and bring it to my office for lunch."

"Oh, and remember, no basil."

The screen glared back at me. My eyes darkened.

Stella had never hated basil. In fact, she loved it. She used to order extra pesto whenever we went out for Italian.

I sat in the quiet of my kitchen for a long moment. Then, I typed: Sure.

I opened a delivery app, ordered a mediocre, mass-produced pasta dish from a chain restaurant, and had it delivered to her corporate lobby.

That evening, Tessa and I went out to a newly opened steakhouse to celebrate a work win.

We had barely sat down when I saw them. Stella and Christian, walking through the glass doors, their arms linked, laughing brightly at some private joke.

The second Stella saw us, she instinctively dropped his arm and walked over.

Christian's smile faltered for a microsecond before he put on a charming grin and followed. "What a coincidence. Looks like they're totally booked, though. You guys wouldn't mind if we crashed your table, right?"

Without waiting for an answer, Stella slid into the leather booth, directly next to me.

Tessa's eyes went wide. She immediately stood up to switch seats. "What are you doing? Why are you sitting next to my brother while your first love is standing right there?"

Stella was practically shoved across the table to sit opposite me. She looked incredibly displeased, staring at me like she expected me to defend her.

I avoided her gaze entirely. I pushed a menu toward Christian. "Go ahead and order whatever you'd like, Christian. My sister and I already put ours in."

He took the menu, chuckling smoothly. "You know, Cole, that lunch you made today was incredible. So much better than anything you can buy at a restaurant."

So, my suspicion was right. The tortellini she demanded was for him.

I just smiled and took a sip of water.

Tessa laughed, a bit of teasing pride in her voice. "He lost his mind a few years ago and took all these intensive culinary classes. He was the only guy in the room. I thought he'd quit, but he stuck with it."

"Now he can hold his own in a Michelin kitchen. Whoever ends up marrying him is going to be incredibly lucky."

Stella had been wearing a faint smile, but at Tessa's words, the warmth vanished from her face. She took a slow sip of her wine, her tone cool. "Is Cole looking to start dating?"

I looked up at her, feigning innocence.

I thought about what she had said in the bar. I gave a slight nod. "I'm twenty-six. It's probably time. If you know anyone good, Stella, I'd love an introduction."

"Finally!" Tessa slammed her hand on the table, thrilled. "I've been trying to set you up for years and you always shut me down! Now that you're finally open to it, I am going to find you the perfect girl."

Stella's lips were pressed into a thin, bloodless line. She stared at me unblinkingly, as if trying to dissect the lie on my face.

Christian noticed the shift in her mood. He smiled pleasantly. "Cole is a lucky guy, having an older sister to look out for him. I'm almost jealous. Honestly, I think Stella would be..."

"Don't be ridiculous. Cole is like a little brother to me."

Before Tessa could react, Stella cut him off, her brow furrowed. The words sounded like a reprimand, but her expression betrayed a deep, unsettled panic.

I nodded enthusiastically, backing her up. "Exactly. I've always seen Stella as a second sister. You shouldn't make jokes like that, Christian."

"Besides," I added smoothly, "I think you and Stella are a much better match."

Stella's face darkened instantly. A storm brewed in her eyes, and she let out a sharp, breathless laugh. "Is that right? Fine. I'll set you up with someone. You'd better make time to meet her."

"Sounds great. Thanks, Stella," I said, my smile blindingly bright.

I didn't contact Stella for the next few days, and she didn't reach out to me.

Instead, Christian showed up at my apartment.

Tessa was over, lounging on the couch, when I let him in.

"Alright, what do you want?" Tessa asked, not bothering to mince words.

Christian looked at me, feigning a sheepish smile. "Tess, you know Stella and I go way back. We're each other's first loves. We had our ups and downs, but the connection never died."

"I was an idiot for letting her go. I want to officially win her back. I'm going to propose that we start over, and I need your help setting it up."

In another lifetime, I would have yelled at him to get out. I would have boldly declared that Stella loved me. She would never agree to it, I would have said.

But living through that past life had burned the delusion out of my brain. I knew the truth. She loved him. They really were made for each other.

"Sure, why not?" Tessa shrugged. "It's obvious she's never gotten over you. If you make a big romantic gesture, she'll definitely say yes."

Christian's smile widened. He looked at me, his eyes gleaming with a strange, competitive triumph.

I just shrugged, completely unbothered.

Two days later, Tessa and Stella's inner circle of friends devised a plan. They decided the best way to trigger a confession was an adrenaline-fueled setup.

They booked a weekend at a rustic lakeside lodge in the Catskills, timing it perfectly with the town's famous summer bonfire and fireworks festival.

The lakeside was packed. I hated crowds, so I tried to hang back near the treeline.

But Christian wasn't about to let me escape. He grabbed my shoulder, dragging me straight to the front row, right up against the safety barricades.

When the massive bonfire roared to life, shooting towering sparks into the night sky, Christian strategically flinched, stepping back until his shoulder brushed Stella's.

Stella saw him 'trembling' and her eyes softened with pure affection. She looped her arm through his, teasing him softly over the roar of the fire. "You know you hate fire, you idiot. Why did you insist on coming right to the front?"

"Because you're here," he murmured, leaning in. "When I'm with you, I'm not scared of anything."

Her eyes practically melted. She reached out and intertwined her fingers tightly with his.

Staring at their clasped hands, my mind drifted back to the early days of my marriage in that other life.

I had been so hopelessly eager to build a home. I handled every chore, cooked every meal, trying to surround her with warmth.

Until the night I went to pick her up from a bar.

I stood in the shadows of the hallway and listened as she drunkenly slurred to Christian. "I feel like I didn't marry a husband. I feel like I married my father. He suffocates me, Christian. He manages my life down to the minute. Its exhausting."

"Not like you," she had whispered. "You always knew how to give me space."

A sudden scream yanked me back to reality.

A stray, massive dog had slipped off its leash and was tearing violently through the crowd, snapping its jaws. Panic erupted. People shoved each other, scrambling to get away.

The dog was charging straight at me.

I grabbed Tessa's jacket to pull her back, but suddenly, a hard hand shoved me squarely between the shoulder blades.

Before I could catch my balance, I was pushed forcefully over the wooden safety barricade, landing hard in the dirt on the wrong side of the fence.

Screams and the chaotic noise of the crowd swelled around me.

And then, through the sea of panicked bodies, I saw a slender figure running toward the barricade.

For a split second, an old, pathetic instinct flared in my chest. A delusion that Stella was rushing to save me.

But she didn't even look down at where I had fallen. She vaulted right over my legs, throwing her arms around Christian, who had also stumbled over the line.

Cole, what on earth were you hoping for?

I wanted to laugh, but the bitter irony choked me.

Thank God for Tessa. She fought her way through the chaos, grabbed my arm, and hauled me up, helping me limp away on a twisted ankle.

Once we were out of the crush of the crowd, Tessa wiped the sweat from her forehead. "The proposal setup is ready by the garden. Come on, we have to go watch."

She slung my arm over her shoulder, supporting my weight as we hobbled toward the lodges courtyard.

Stella's friends had transformed the massive oak tree by the patio. Fairy lights shaped like hearts hung from the branches. Polaroids of Stella and Christian's teenage years were clipped to twine. Old love letters. Ticket stubs.

Christian stood in the center, holding a massive bouquet of pink rosesher favorite. He was speaking softly, pouring his heart out, asking for a second chance.

Stella stood in front of him, absolutely stunned.

A warm summer breeze drifted past, rustling the leaves. Even the wind seemed to be cheering for them.

They were in love. They belonged together.

Listening to the crowd cooing and cheering around me, I raised my hands and started clapping. "Say yes! Say yes!" I chanted loudly.

Hearing my voice, Stella snapped her head toward me. Her eyes were wide with utter shock and horror.

"Cole, are you out of your mind?!" she screamed over the music. "I am your girlfriend!